


Going Too Slowly

by Applea



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 02:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19984354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applea/pseuds/Applea
Summary: It was after the world ended before Aziraphale caught up.





	Going Too Slowly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brynncognito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynncognito/gifts).



> This work was made possible by prosthetical on tumblr with the prompt "Fluff with mutual pining".

Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s long hair slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. Which, he supposed, they did. Heaven and Hell had both left them alone, and now there was no one to worry about being scandalized that Crowley and he were watching the sunrise from his flat. The plants, for once, looked as though they were just feeling ordinary plant feelings as the light gently touched them. Aziraphale’s mind was peacefully blank. Crowley looked as though he was similarly disinclined to towards conscious thought.

Had they been in Aziraphale’s bookshop, dust motes would have danced gently. But they were not, and so Aziraphale had to content himself with looking at the slowly drifting clouds. His heart was at ease for the first time in perhaps a long time.

Crowley’s heart, on the other hand, was under his conscious control. He had carefully forced it to stop beating as loud as it wanted it to when he first laid his head in Aziraphale’s lap. Now that this slow moment of time had extended, it was not too hard to continue as he had begun. His hair slipped softly through Aziraphale’s fingers, and for once he didn’t worry about how cool it looked. His angel’s lap was very plush, and his modern couch was long enough to encompass his sprawling limbs. He was very carefully not thinking of anything in particular, nor was he attempting to remember the moment. He knew he’d remember it whether he wanted to or not, and he’d have plenty of time to miss it in his oversized and stark bed when he was alone. Perhaps he’d get a pillow similar to Aziraphale’s thighs. Would that be creepy? It would be creepy, wouldn’t it. He should know, after all he had a hand in the creation of the Girlfriend Thighs Pillow that was being bought by desperately lonely folks across the world. He knew better than anyone those kinds of pillows only made you sadder than before. But at least he could find a regular pillow this exact firmness. Of course he couldn’t, what was he thinking? He should stop. Thinking, that is. Just let himself float on. That’s much better.

Aziraphale kept gently stroking as he felt Crowley slowly settle back into the fuzzy place between true consciousness and sleep. Crowley got into these sorts of fits sometimes, where he’d overthink and over analyze. He needed someone to calm him down, someone stable. Aziraphale felt how warm the strands were as they moved in between his fingers. It took a lot of effort to even think of stopping, and so it was a Herculean task for him to move his hand to cup under Crowley’s head and gently lift it up as he bent in half to gently kiss Crowley’s lips. He lowered Crowley’s head and resumed his gentle stroking, staring out into the sky again.

It was an equally Herculean task for Crowley to wake up from his stupor and realize what had just happened. His angel had just kissed him. It was gentle, and soft, and there hadn’t been any tongue. But it was definitely a kiss. It had Happened. Should he do something?

He supposed not. Everything was too slow, too quiet to think.

He resumed staring out into the sky until his eyes became half-lidded, pupils slightly blown. It took an eternity of soft silence before a bird began to trill. Both Crowley and Aziraphale gave small gentle smiles, for here and now the world was still alive. Still turning, and they were still here along with it.

After the bird, it was Aziraphale who spoke first. 

“I suppose it’s out of the question for you to leave the all-black décor when we find a place?”

Crowley hummed in agreement, until his brain caught up.

“What place?”

“Of course, we could skip the search and just keep separate residences but there’s something to be said about living together, I’ve always thought.”

“Living together?”

“I shall want to keep my bookshop, and there is a second floor where I live now if you’d like to move in with me. Or we could find a place together. I was reading in the newspaper that modern couples fair better when they pick a place together, instead of one moving into the other’s space. But then again, we’re not exactly a modern couple.”

“Nnno…I suppose not Angel.” Crowley felt as though his brain was slowly warming jelly, spilling a little out of the mold. Aziraphale’s hands were still in his hair, and he could feel that gentle kiss on his lips, and everything was soft except for the part where he was pretty sure Aziraphale had called them a couple. Or perhaps that was the softest bit. Aziraphale’s tone was warm and Crowley was sure his eyes were doing that little thing where they crinkle at the edges and make a small smile look so much bigger.

“But are we the other thing?” Crowley asked.

“What was that, my dear?” 

“A couple Angel, as in, a couple couple?” he could have kicked himself on how that came out, but it was dreadfully hard to think when everything was so…so slow. Everything was slowing down. Including Aziraphale’s hand in his hair.

“I should very much hope so.” Aziraphale murmured quietly. “Do you?”

“Do I?”

“Hope so?”

“I do.”

“Well then,” as he resumed petting, “where shall we like to live?”

“Hang on Angel, isn’t this a bit fast? I mean, for you?”  
“Crowley, my dear, I think after all this time with you racing ahead I’ve finally caught up. I’ve been trying to catch up for ages now, for longer than I think I’ve known. But now that I’ve caught up to you I’d hate to be parted from you.”

“Really?” said Crowley, sitting up and grinning in a way that he thought was devilish but Aziraphale has always seen as hopelessly unguarded. “Longer than you’ve known?”

This time Crowley began the kiss.


End file.
